Feeling
by gleeme33
Summary: Moritz, Wendla, Melchior and Ilse reflect on their lives. Angst-y Poetry.  Ilse/Moritz, Wendla/Melchior.
1. Moritz

**Moritz reflects on his life. Angst-y poetry…yes! If you like this, tell me. If enough of you like it and tell me you like it, I'll do one for Wendla too. Thanks and enjoy.**

_**Moritz**_

_What on God's green Earth _is wrong with me?

_I_ don't do sadness!

I don't _do _sadness!

I _don't _do sadness!

Not even _a little bit_!

What is wrong with me?

What is so wrong with me,

That I would start to do sadness?

… … …

I'm really trying to think here…

But feel free to jump in any time!

I always said that sadness wasn't worth it…

That feeling sadness…

Wouldn't make me a man.

But

Sadness

Is really, truly,

A feeling.

A _feeling_.

An _emotion_.

And,

When you think about it…

Feeling something.

Breathing it,

Living it,

Taking it in…

That makes you a man.

But…

_Ignoring_ it,

_Refusing _to feel it,

Breathe it,

Live it,

Take it in…

That makes you a boy.

A baby boy.

A _sad_ baby boy.

Oh,

I couldn't have been more wrong.

Sadness.

It does _not_ just sail away.

It stays

With you

All night

And all day.

Sadness.

To do without sadness,

My friends,

That is quite impossible.

Sadness,

Is rather mandatory,

My friends.

Why?

Because sadness,

In itself,

Is a feeling.

And, well,

_Feeling _something,

_Feeling _anything…

That's better then

Feeling

Nothing at all.

Spring and summer,

Every other day,

Blue wind gets so sad…

The trouble with that blue wind is,

It never knew

Feeling.

_Feeling_.

Feeling happy, feeling sad, feeling scared, feeling…

Feeling _anything_…

_Is so much better_

_Then feeling_

_Nothing at all._

Oh Ilse,

Sweet Ilse,

I am truly sorry.

Dear God, all I had to do was say yes!

But, Ilse,

I said no.

I said _no_.

I am truly sorry, Ilse.

All I had to do was say yes.

But please,

I ask you not to blame me.

Please, Ilse,

Don't blame the man – the _boy _I was.

Actually, scratch that.

I wasn't even a boy.

I was...nothing.

I had become nothing, made myself nothing…

All those tests, all those papers…

None of it matters now.

I had worried myself down to nothing.

Worry and fear made me

Nothing.

Nothing of what I was.

I was strong, I was kind...

But I had withered myself down...

To nothing.

To a shell of the something that I really, truly was.

What I was…

What _was _I?

A man?

A boy?

_What_?

What _was_ I?

I may never know…

But

What I do know is…

I

Was not

What I

Had become.

That gun, that gun,

That _stupid _gun…

You know what?

It's funny…

It's really kind of funny…

I really couldn't tell you…

What I felt.

Did that bullet…

That stupid, stupid, _stupid _bullet…

Go straight through me?

Did I just feel pain?

Did I feel something go through me?

Did I really feel the bullet?

Did I feel the life going out of me?

Bleeding, slowly, out of me?

It's kind of funny…

That I

Felt

Nothing.

I don't do sadness,

Not even a little bit,

Just don't need it in my life,

Don't want any part of it.

But you know what the really sad part was?

I should have

Wanted

All of it.


	2. Wendla

"_Love is patient; love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things._" – 1 Corinthians 13: 4-7

_**Wendla**_

_Love_.

That word puts many thoughts into one's mind, now doesn't it?

At first, one would think

Of their lover.

Or,

More likely,

Their ghost.

None the less,

A classic picture comes to mind,

At first,

Now doesn't it?

That picture…

That _perfect _picture.

You know the one.

We all do.

That perfect picture

Of the man

And the woman.

Walking,

Holding hands,

Sneaking a kiss or two.

Giggling,

Smiling,

Hugging,

And

Just

_Being_.

Being

_Together_.

But, yet,

Once you look at the picture a little closer…

It really, truly,

Isn't so perfect.

Maybe the man

Is cheating on her.

Maybe the woman

Is lying to him.

That perfect picture of love,

That is so set into our minds,

Well, it isn't so perfect

After all.

I believe,

I believe,

I believe,

Oh, I believe –

All will be forgiven.

But guess what?

In reality,

All is _never _forgiven.

There's always

That one moment,

That one statement,

That one _something_,

That sticks with us.

And,

When you're laying in bed at night,

That one moment,

That one statement,

That one _something_ –

It sure seems a lot bigger

Then _one _something.

But, eventually,

Something rather strange will happen.

One day you will find someone,

Weather you are looking for them or not.

And soon you will realize,

That this particular someone,

Never gave you that one something,

That keeps you awake at night.

No, no,

Only just

_Fond_ something's

That keep you awake at night.

Awake, that is,

In his arms.

He whispers to you

Just the things you want to hear.

He holds you close

Just when you want to be held.

And, one day,

You'll ask him one of your stupid questions.

You know the ones.

"Do I look okay?"

"Do you think I'm pretty?"

"Do you think I'm smart?"

"Do you think of me?"

And I'm not expecting,

Some over-the-top answer.

Truthfully,

He doesn't need to burst out into song,

Or ask for your hand in marriage right then and there.

Remember, he's a _he_…

So they don't think like we do.

And we have to remember that.

We have to remember that

He's not

Some character out of a romance novel,

He's not

Price Charming on his white horse coming to save you.

He's just…

_Himself_.

And, one day,

You will realize,

That

Just

Himself,

Is a lot better

Then anything else.

And I'm not expecting,

Some over-the-top answer.

But

He smiles.

He smiles that smile you love so much.

He nods and says:

"I believe so."

I believe,

I believe,

I believe,

Oh, I believe –

There is love in Heaven.

And soon,

You realize,

That there is nothing more over-the-top,

And amazing,

And charming,

And perfect,

Perfect _for you_,

Then him.

You let yourself kiss him,

And you know it to be true.

You know it to be true,

And,

Something hits you.

You

Are

In love.

_Love_.

And this, this something,

Is when you realize,

Love can truly be

Perfect.

Love is patient,

Love is kind.

Yes, at first, it is.

But soon, sometimes a little too soon…

It isn't so patient anymore.

You see, _love _isn't the only thing you feel,

When you look into his eyes.

And,

You loose control.

Damn those eyes.

Damn those feelings.

_Feelings_.

Now you know it to be true.

Because you're feeling things,

You've never felt before.

Damn those feelings.

"It's wrong!"

You shout.

"It's sin!"

"Why?"

He asks,

As if,

He really wants to know.

And, honestly…

You start to question it yourself.

_Why?_

Why Why**Why**_ Why?_

"Because it feels good?"

Damn – you can't argue.

"Because it feels…right?"

Again, you can't argue.

And then, you

Really do

Question it yourself.

And guess what?

I can't find an answer.

So guess what?

You don't argue.

And honestly,

You don't know,

What was so…

_Wrong_.

Isn't love

Supposed to be kind?

And that day,

You made a decision.

If one life was going to end so soon,

Then another would too.

And

That

Was

That.

The light

Became dark

And the dark

Became light

Again.

You see him,

Bending over your grave.

Wait…

_What _is he doing?

Trying to end his life, too?

No!

Two lives were already cut so short…

And you will not stand

For another.

Those you've know,

The lost still walk behind you.

All alone,

They linger 'til they find you.

Without them,

The world grows dark around you,

And nothing is the same,

Until you know that they have found you.

He's crying now.

Crying, over your grave.

And you won't stand for it.

You watch me,

Just watch me,

I'm calling,

And one day,

All will know.

Love is patient,

Love is kind.

Love

Is

Light.

You want to tell him,

That this is

Not

Goodbye.

Your friend looks at you.

A look, as to say,

"I'm sorry."

But you shack it off.

"Not gone," you whisper. "Not gone."

I'm calling,

And one day,

All

Will

Know.


	3. Melchior

"_You can shed tears that she is gone, or you can smile because she has lived. You can close your eyes and pray that she'll come back, or you can open your eyes and see all she's left. Your heart can be empty because you can't see her, or you can be full of the love you shared. You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday, or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday. You can remember her only that she is gone, or you can cherish her memory and let it live on. You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back. Or you can do what she'd want: smile, open your eyes, love and go on._" – David Harkins, "She is Gone"

_**Melchior**_

You just _don't understand._

It's as simple as that.

She was just here.

She was _just _here.

But now…

She

Is…

… … …No.

No **No** No _No_ _**No**_ nO _NO no _No.

It cannot be true.

And…even if it is true…

_Which it's not…_

You refuse –

You _refuse _

To

_Believe_

It.

She is _not _gone.

_She _is not gone.

She is not…

_Gone._

… … … …

_No…no…_

But…

She…can't be…

_Gone_…

But…

She was just here!

She was _just _here.

You just _don't_…_understand_.

You just don't understand…how this is possible.

You left her.

You didn't want to,

It wasn't your choice,

But, still –

_You_

_Left_

_Her_.

How could you leave her?

How could you leave her…

All alone?

All that's known,

History and science,

Overthrown,

At school, at home by blind men.

You doubt them

And soon they bark and hound you,

'Till everything they say is just another bad about you.

All they say,

Is trust in what is written.

Wars are made,

And somehow that is wisdom!

Thought is suspect,

And money is their idol,

And nothing is okay unless it's scripted in their Bible!

Still I know,

There's so much more to find,

Just through looking at myself and not at them!

Still I know,

To trust my own true mind,

And say: "there's a way through this"…

At least…you _thought so_.

The sad truth is…

People with louder voices

Are the ones who get the say in things.

So, if you want to be heard…

Make

Your voice

Loud.

You tried that.

But in your particular milieu that you grew up in…

Where the "children" who weren't even _children _anymore…

No one

Had

A voice

Worth hearing.

Well, actually…

There

Was

One.

But, now…

That voice…

Has

Been

Silenced.

_Forever_.

And because of that…

You cannot

Live

With yourself.

Not

Without

_Her._

You think.

You think back,

To those pretty days you had,

With her.

In the park.

In the forest.

_In the hayloft_.

"Let's play pirates, Melchi!"

Her seven-year-old voice would exclaim,

So very merry and full of glee.

"Let's play pirates, Melchi!"

"Okay, Wendla,"

Your eight-year-old self answers.

"Let's play pirates!"

_Let's_

_Play_

_Pirates._

Let's go back

Back to a time

When we played pirates.

We played together,

You and I,

And it

Was nothing

More.

_**Child's**__play_.

You were captain of the ship,

And of course, she was there too.

Pirates were the two of you.

So very merry and full of glee.

She was seven

And you were eight.

You'd say: "I'm boss, 'cause I'm older,"

Or something like that.

Oh,

How your eight-year-old self wished.

"No,"

She say,

With no merriment or glee.

"What gives _you_ the right –

To boss around _me_?"

"I'm sorry," you'd reply,

Upset over her being upset.

You just want her to be

So very merry

And full of glee.

"We can both be boss,"

And then she'd smile

That perfect little smile.

Yes, yes –

We'd play pirates.

Moritz, Ilse,

You and I,

We said we'd play together

Until the day

We die.

We die…

We _die…_

_We _die.

That is when you realize,

If she is…

…

_Dead_…

_Then _

_So_

_Are _

_You_.

"Well, you had the right idea!"

You shout to your friend that day.

"They'll scatter a little earth

And sing praise to their God!"

You wanted to do it.

You really did.

With that sword,

You'd end your miserable life without her,

And start your perfect one with her.

It was just as simple as that.

A little pain

Is a small price to pay

For ever-lasting perfection.

…Those you've pained,

May carry that still with them,

All the same,

They whisper: "All's forgiven".

Still your heart says the shadows bring the starlight,

And everything you've ever been

Is still there in the dark night…

_She_

_Was _

_There_.

She and your friend.

They were there.

They were telling you

Not to do it.

But…

How could she

Tell you that?

"I want to be with you!"

You want to scream out

"Always and forever!"

"You will be with me,"

You almost hear her voice.

"Always and forever."

_Not gone, not gone_.

I'll walk now with them,

I'll call on their names,

And I'll see their thoughts are known,

Not gone,

_Not gone_.

They walk with my heart.

And

I'll

Never

Let

Them

Go.

You watch me,

Just watch me,

I'll calling,

And one day

_All _

_Will _

_Know_.

It's almost too much for you to bare.

They people

Dressed in mourning.

The friends

Bent in grief,

But you…

You crumble.

You crumble and wish it were you.

You wish she were still here.

You wish…

You wish you could turn around,

And see her smiling seven-year-old face again.

"Let's play pirates, Melchi!"

She'd giggle.

So very merry and full of glee.

Let's

Play

Pirates.

I will sing

The song of purple summer.

All

Shall know the wonder.

I will sing

The song of purple summer.

All

Shall

Know

The wonder

Of purple summer.


End file.
